


The Reservoir

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Casifer, Drowning, Flashbacks, Gen, Post-Episode: s11e14 The Vessel, Post-Leviathan, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 17:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11235444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: Unfortunately for Castiel, Lucifer has full access to his mind.





	The Reservoir

Cas cowered in the kitchen- not the kitchen, the realistic version of the kitchen. The one he'd built in his mind. A place to hide while his brother controlled the vessel. 

Lucifer left him alone, for the most part. Left him to watch his little rabbit-eared television. It was a symbolic act, of course. The television wasn't any more real than the table, or the chairs, or the walls. The stories playing out on the fuzzy screen were products of Castiel's own mind- the same as everything else in the room. 

He didn't care. It kept him distracted, watching these characters move through their lives in safe, predictable arcs. 

He couldn't control it now- his fear was overcoming his resolve, the same way his desperation had overridden Lucifer's control of the vessel. 

Sam and Dean were safe, but Castiel was still trapped. In here. 

On the screen, a Latina woman's face fuzzed over and was replaced by an image of Castiel's brother, stalking through the halls of the bunker, searching. Kicking down one door after another, seeking out the rebellious little seraph that had crossed him. 

Castiel's own fears, playing out in glorious technicolor. 

The hallways were drenched in red, the bunker kicking into emergency mode, purely because Castiel felt that it should be so. 

The kitchen door slammed open and Castiel dropped his head to the table, cowering under his crossed arms. 

"Please, brother-"

Lucifer's gripped him by a fistful of hair, lifting him fractionally before slamming his face down onto the dirty linoleum table. Castiel felt his nose break, only to heal moments later.

The television flickered again, this time showing images of the dungeon- of Castiel's blood splattered across the warded concrete. Castiel heard himself screaming through the aged speakers. 

"Nothing that simple, Castiel," Lucifer hissed, Drawing Castiel's head back until his throat was bared. "I have something  _ personal _ for you." 

"No," Castiel whispered, because he already knew what Lucifer was referring to. The first thing he'd done upon taking the vessel was rummage through the seraph's memories, rooting out his secrets, his plans... his fears. 

The television flickered again and this time, it appeared to show only darkness. The speakers played a mottled static, one that Castiel knew well. 

It was the water of the reservoir as his vessel walked into the frigid depths. The leviathan cared nothing for the vessel but Castiel did; he was the one who felt the water invading his mouth, his lungs screaming for air as his legs plodded through the lakebottom mud. 

Castiel remembered drowning. That's what the television showed now. 

"That's right, little brother," Lucifer snapped. He grabbed Castiel by the collar, dragging him backward, away from the table, toward the deep metal sink. It was already full. Dark, foul water spurted from the tap, overflowing the basin and spilling onto the floor. 

"No," Castiel gasped, trying to twist out of Lucifer's grip. "No, no no no-"

Lucifer's foot came down hard on his ankle, spraining it and throwing Castiel off balance. He couldn't get his balance, couldn't pull away, and it was easy for Lucifer to push him over and shove his head beneath the surface. 

Instantly, his ears filled with the sounds of the reservoir, even as the taste of lakewater reached his tongue. He flailed, reaching for the edge of the sink and finding nothing but water. 

Already, his throat burned, every instinct telling him to breathe. 

He couldn't, not now, not with his head under the water-

Lucifer wrenched him up, backhanding him hard. Through the streaming runoff, Castiel saw trees. The two of them stood chest-deep in the water. 

"You little  _ shit, _ " Lucifer growled. His hands tightened on Castiel's throat and the seraph was shoved backwards. This time when the water closed over his head, he could see the sky- watery blue, a halo around his brother's snarling face. 

Castiel reached up, clawing at him, finding no purchase. Lucifer's body was like marble. Castiel had no defense. 

He remembered Sam, fighting equally weakly against his own grip. Sam, whose soul he had touched once again. Who had given him the strength to overcome Lucifer's control. 

Sam was not here now. Had never been here. 

Castiel saw spots, even as he was drawn above the surface once again. 

"I'd kill you, if I wouldn't lose the vessel," Lucifer hissed. "And I'll kill you, when this is over. You understand me, you little maggot?" 

Castiel opened his mouth to respond, only to have it filled with lakewater before he could speak. He tried to spit it out, but it was no use. His mouth filled again and again, the earthy taste of the water making his heart race, even as his blood filled with carbon dioxide. 

He shook his head, trying to get his feet under him. His head was pounding, his lungs burning. Some of the water made it into his throat and he coughed, sputtering, drawing more into his mouth. 

His head broke the surface again and he gasped, drawing at the air even as his lungs stung and burned. 

"You're  _ dead _ ," Lucifer repeated, "you only get to choose how  _ fast _ you die."

Castiel didn't bother trying to respond. Lucifer hadn't released him and sure enough, the moment he was done speaking, he shoved the seraph beneath the surface again. His face was dark against the sky, his features a terrible mask of rage. Nothing like the rage the leviathans had felt, but rage nonetheless. 

The news that he would survive came as little comfort to Castiel. He tried to focus, tried to make the water disappear- this was, after all, this inside of his own mind- but if anything the water only grew deeper, and colder. 

He couldn't fight any more and he inhaled, the freezing lakewater burning as it coursed through his nose, into his lungs. Lucifer released him and he broke the surface gasping, coughing water out of his body. It looked black as it splattered across his hands and wrists. 

"Go back to your fucking television," Lucifer spat. "I don't want to see or hear or  _ feel _ you ever again. The next time you fuck with me, it'll be one of your little fuckbuddies I'm drowning." 

Castiel's stomach writhed and he vomited black goo. It splattered across the floor of the bunker's kitchen. 

Lucifer was gone.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Still playing "Fighter's Block." It's actually... kind of fun. 
> 
> I did a big prompt!purge today. Some of these... I am just never gonna fill. Sorry, all. 
> 
> Original kinkmeme prompt: http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/121551.html?thread=43465167&sign=44e74f30b20ced296d6fed4f653618ce&t=1497214880#t43465167


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